To the Dark and the Endless Sky
by Empathist
Summary: A short and fluffy Stendan one-shot for Valentine's day. Set in February 2016, and for anyone who keeps track, it fits in between Doing It Again and Say It Back.


Pink and red: row after row of it. Brendan stood looking at the display in the card shop, baffled.

The club had been fairly busy ever since the doors opened this evening, being a Saturday, and he didn't like to leave it even for five minutes. He wasn't established yet, he'd not long been in sole charge since the handover period with the manager he'd taken over from, and he needed his staff to note that he was a grafter, that he was on top of the job and on top of them. He'd been talking to the assistant manager tonight though, and she'd said to him, "You all set for tomorrow, then, Brendan? You got a card sorted, have you?"

"What?"

"Valentine's day. Or is your fella not the hearts and flowers type?"

Until then, Brendan had only thought of tomorrow in the context of the manically busy night they were expecting in the club. He'd be here until god knew what time of night, and Steven would be on a long shift at that dive of a restaurant he worked at, so a date night was out of the question; and as for getting him a card, it hadn't even crossed Brendan's mind. They didn't go in for that style of romanticising. It was _icky_.

Ten minutes later, he was standing in the card shop. In the middle of that conversation with Maria his mind had gone back three long years to the only Valentine's day they'd had, him and Steven. Their fragile life together had just begun to spiral out of control, although they never imagined back then the speed and chaos of its destruction, and yet that day – the day after the children were taken – Steven had handed him a card. _Your worth the wait. Love you_, he'd written inside, and then a line of kisses until he'd run out of space. Seventeen kisses: Brendan had counted.

The memory of that day – of that other lifetime – had shaken him into saying to Maria, "Back in ten," and he'd darted out to the shop up the road before it closed.

Pink and red, and swirly italics, and doe-eyed cartoon animals, and roses and hearts, and for fucksake. A couple of cards weren't bad on the front but when he opened them to read the verses inside, he closed them quickly and shoved them back onto the display for fear the ghost of Yeats or Heaney might tap him on the shoulder.

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" a woman restocking the shelves asked him.

"Yeah... Got any insulin?"

"Sorry?"

"I was after something a little less... _sentimental_. If I go home with one of these, my bloke's gonna think I'm taking the..."

"We've got a same-sex selection just over there, if that's any better?"

She was unfazed. Brendan still wasn't accustomed to that.

The cards were still wrong, just in a different way. There were men in top hat and tails, or grubby cartoons, or photos of musclebound men which (Brendan hoped) wouldn't appeal to Steven.

Fuck it. Bad idea. He went back to work.

:::::::

"How does it work if I wanna buy a bottle from stock to take home?" he asked Maria later. At least showing up with champagne would be better than turning up empty-handed.

"You punch it in on the till first. What do want to take?"

He chose a bottle, not the brut that he'd prefer but a demi-sec which wouldn't make Steven do a lemon-sucking face.

"One of these."

"Okay, so you punch it in, then you put in the staff discount code – seven eight two – then your staff number."

"Two seven two."

"Right, then I put in my number to show it's legit, then you pay up."

:::::::

After closing, the club staff had a routine between them whereby they took it in turns to choose the music to play through the sound system while they did the clearing up and night tasks. Brendan had fallen in with it, and tonight for the first time it was his turn to choose; so as he sat in the office going through the takings, Johnny Cash played out quietly over the speakers.

By the time his work was done, everyone else had finished and gone home. He was going to turn off the music but first he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes to hear one last song and clear his head before the drive home.

_The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes  
>And the moon and stars were the gifts you gave<br>To the dark and the endless sky, my love. _

He opened his eyes and clicked through on the laptop to Google images; by the time the song was over he found what he was looking for and pressed _print_.

He folded the A4 sheet in half and wrote a message inside; found an envelope and wrote _Steven_ on the front.

:::::::

The flat was dark and silent when he got home. He took off his coat and put the kitchen light on, and put the bottle of champagne down on the side. It was still cold from the club's fridge.

Next to the microwave there was an envelope with _BRENDAN_ written on it in careful capitals, and in the top right hand corner, _wake me up ok xx_. He opened it.

The card had a picture on the front, of a cat with cream around its mouth and its pink tongue out to lick it off. _I'm the cat that got the cream_ was printed inside, and Steven had written _Its cream you dirty bastard_ above the printing, and below it, _P.S. I love you for ever. Ste_. Brendan counted the kisses: twenty-four this time.

They still hadn't got around to buying any wine glasses, so he got two tumblers off the draining rack, picked up the champagne, and went into the bedroom.

:::::::

Ste was woken by Brendan's fingers combing through his hair.

"Hiya." He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus in the dark. "What time is it?"

"About three I think." Brendan was sitting on the bed. "You said wake you, so I'm waking you."

"It's Valentine's day now, then," Ste said. "Did you see your card?"

"Yeah. Cute." He leaned and gave Ste a kiss, and Ste reached up and held the back of his head.

The hairs of Brendan's moustache felt cool between Ste's lips.

"You're cold."

"It's cold out. Got us a bottle of this." Brendan picked up the champagne from the bedside cabinet. "Want some?"

"Now?"

"If you want."

"Is it, like, for Valentine's?"

"Yep."

"Go on then," Ste said, and he wondered if Brendan could see his smile in the dark. "Have you ate your lasagne?"

"Not yet. Only just got in."

"Want me to heat it up? It's all ready."

"I'm okay."

"Okay. Right, you open that champagne, I won't be a sec."

Ste slid out of bed and went off to the kitchen. He took the lasagne out of the microwave and put it in the fridge, and out of the fridge he got a dish he'd brought home from work tonight. He microwaved it.

Brendan was in bed when he went back into the bedroom, and the bedside lamp was on.

"What's this, Steven? I told you, you didn't have to – "

"You said you didn't want your lasagne. You'll want this though."

He handed Brendan the dish and a spoon, and got into bed beside him.

"What is it?"

"Sticky toffee pudding. Made it at work, didn't I. Careful, it's hot."

"_Stickeh toffeh pudding_?"

"Shut up." Ste frowned at Brendan, and Brendan reached out an arm and pulled him into a kiss.

"We got any cream?"

"You don't want much, you." Ste got out of bed again and went and fetched it from the kitchen. "We got squirty cream," he said, and dived back into bed.

"Give us a squirt, then."

Ste swirled some cream onto the pudding and it started melting in the heat. Brendan passed Ste a tumbler of champagne.

"Ta. Happy Valentine's."

They clinked glasses.

"Happy Valentine's." Brendan drank, then started on the pudding. "Fuck, this is good. Here."

He fed a spoonful to Ste, and then another, and swiped a trickle of toffee sauce from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Ste held Brendan's hand and took his thumb into his mouth, and looked at Brendan as he sucked. He watched Brendan's pupils dilate.

"Mmm," Ste said.

"Fucking little tart." Brendan finished the pudding and put the bowl down. "Come here."

Ste felt a shiver across his shoulders and a flutter in his stomach. He was already anticipating Brendan's touch: the heat of expectation and familiarity was spreading between them, so certain and inevitable that he risked a little teasing to wind Brendan up.

"I thought we was drinking our champagne," Ste said, and he picked up his glass and drank it down, and held it out for more.

Brendan took it from him.

"Later."

"No, I wannit now."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

There was a second when anything could happen, and then Brendan pulled off the cover, yanked Ste down the bed by his ankles and knelt astride him. It was only now that Ste realised Brendan was naked.

"You wannit now?" Brendan asked.

"Said so, didn't I?" Ste felt a pins-and-needles feeling in his groin as his cock began to strain inside his pyjama bottoms, even though Brendan's weight was only on his thighs.

Brendan picked up the bottle and drank from it. Only when he leaned down and put his lips against Ste's open mouth did Ste realise that he hadn't swallowed the champagne: instead it trickled from Brendan's mouth to his and fizzed coolly on his tongue. Ste laughed, and it spilt between them and ran down his cheek.

Brendan sat back and pulled Ste's T-shirt off over his head, and used it to wipe first his own mouth and then Ste's face.

"Messy fucker, ain'tcha."

"Weren't my fault."

"You blaming me?"

"What if I am?" Ste could feel his heart speeding up.

Brendan slid his fingers into the waist band of Ste's pyjamas and pulled them slowly down.

"Look at that," he said as Ste's dick sprang free. "Ain't it cute? All... _perky_."

"Shut up. Fuck off." He could feel his cheeks flushing, and Brendan started to laugh low in his throat, a sound that put heat into Ste's cheeks and into his balls. "Shut up."

"Is that any way to talk to someone that's just bought champagne for you?" Brendan moved off Ste and before Ste knew what was happening he'd wrestled him so he was face down, and landed a slap on his bum.

"Ow!" Ste scrambled to face Brendan, and they fought, grabbing at each other, biting anywhere that was in range, kissing when their mouths met.

"Okay, okay!" Brendan lay back, and Ste ended up kneeling beside him, craning his neck over his shoulder to try to see where Brendan had slapped him.

"Has it gone red? It bloody stung, that did."

"Turn around, let me see." Brendan stroked the handprint he'd made. "Want me to kiss it better, do ya? Come on then, come here."

Ste turned back around and kissed Brendan sloppily, then clambered onto him facing his feet, his bum in Brendan's face, his knees splayed either side of his body.

"Go on then, kiss it."

Brendan held Ste's hips and Ste felt the tickle of his moustache on his buttock, and then a slow lick, and then a kiss.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

Ste leaned over and got the canister of cream. He heard Brendan's sharp intake of breath as the thick cold gloop hit his cock, and then he bent over and began to lick it.

"Jesus, Steven."

Brendan got hold of Ste's hips again, and manoeuvred him into position so his tongue could sweep from his balls and over his perineum to his hole. Hunched over, both hands around Brendan's cock, Ste felt as if his skin was buzzing with static as each lick Brendan took of him set off a relay of nerve endings. He sucked wetly in time with the circling and stabbing of Brendan's tongue; he felt himself opening to him helplessly. No one but Brendan had ever done this to him, and no one else ever would.

He felt Brendan's dick shudder between his hands and the milky sweetness of the cream was laced with a tang of precum. Ste wiped his mouth on the back of his hand then slid forward. For a moment Brendan restrained him to take a last lick of his rim, then his grip loosened and Ste shuffled down Brendan's body, raised himself up on his knees, and let Brendan guide the tip of his cock into him. It was torturous, Ste's sensitivity primed by Brendan's tongue so now with the thickness of his shaft stretching his opening, it felt impossible that he could take it. Brendan stroked his back, and Ste breathed deeply and steadied himself with his hands on Brendan's knees, and somehow suddenly he'd found his angle and let himself sink down until he could feel Brendan filling him, and the weirdly startling sensation of their balls touching.

He was in control then, rolling his pelvis and clenching his muscles, drawing Brendan's thrusts into him, forcing the friction inside him so his own dick tightened with urgency. He started to touch himself with one hand, and then cried out as Brendan sat up and wrapped an arm around his stomach from behind and a hand around his cock. Brendan's teeth were on Ste's shoulder and his breath was hot and laboured, and his hand was quick.

"Come on," Brendan said, and his voice was thick with sex. "Come on. Come. Come with me."

Ste came with a rush. It felt as if every muscle in his body spasmed and fitted, and he cried out, and louder when Brendan's orgasm jerked into him and shook them both again.

Brendan held Ste in his arms when they'd disentangled themselves, and Ste was happy to stay there, his head on Brendan's chest, listening to his heart slow back to normal.

"That was..." Ste said.

"I know." Brendan was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "You're... You've given me a life, d'you know that? I never had... I thought I'd always have nothing."

"You alright, Bren?" He looked at Brendan's face, searching for signs that something was wrong.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He kissed Ste softly. "Just, y'know, thinking. That card you gave me – not the one tonight, the first one. It was... I never thought we'd..."

"I know. But we did. We are. You know what I said in me card, right? _For ever_. It's true. You and me, innit. Brendan and Ste."

"Brendan and Steven."

They kissed, pressed together in each other's warmth.

Eventually Brendan got out of bed.

"Where you going?"

"Gonna get cleaned up." He got the pack of wipes from the drawer and gave them to Ste. "Not many of these left. I'll go and wash, okay?"

Ste cleaned himself, then poured some champagne into their glasses and sat back to sip his. Now that he wasn't drinking it alongside the sticky toffee pudding, it tasted less sour and he liked it.

When Brendan came back into the room he had an envelope in his hand.

"What's that?" Ste asked. "Is it... Is it a Valentine's card?"

"Sorta. Whatever. It's no big deal, is it."

"Yeah it is. It's a – "

"Yeah, alright."

Ste opened it. It was a photo printed out on a piece of paper of a night sky, the moon and the stars spreading their light into the darkness. Ste unfolded it and read the words inside.

_Thank you_, it said.


End file.
